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The Gypsy Stone By Robin Douglas ***FORWORD*** The heavy wooden handled sledge hammer came down on the small black cube with enormous force. Green sparks flew from the 4 inch artifact, but not a scar or chip was visible on its surface. "Sorry Ma'am, can't touch it with the hammer either. I could try the saw." The dark woman looked at the burly Indian with disgust. "So, a big strong man like you can't even break a little rock. And you call yourself 'Bear'." "Let's try the saw. If that don't work you'd better take it over to the University, maybe they know what to do with it." The husky Pawnee took the inky box of stone in his right hand and wiped the beads of sweat from his brow with the left. It wasn't heavy like a solid, it felt hollow. But not so hollow as to crush under the hammer blows he had given it. Strange writing and symbols were inscribed on the surface, but they weren't anything he had ever seen. How did the maker of this write on it? He hadn't yet been able to scratch it. The saw was made for slicing pipes and small beams. Bear hadn't found a metal or stone the saw wouldn't cut. Its relentless band blade would slowly drive its way through the cube, a drizzle of oil cooling the target area. Then the stonefaced lady would pay him the hundred she had promised. Bear lifted up the weighted arm of the saw and set the moving blade on the ebony object. The saw screamed its distress and greasy smoke rose from the area of contact. The woman walked over and bent over looking at the blade slide across the slick surface. "I think you're burning the teeth off your saw, Mr. Bear," she stated flatly. ***FOOTBALL*** Nick Burford kicked off the line with every bit of acceleration he could muster. The slim wingback looked downfield for the first defender of the zone, but he was preoccupied with the tight end. Nick sped past the 30 yardline toward the goal. The safety was waiting for him at the 20. He focused on his move. If he faked right and moved left that would be what the defender expected. If he moved left without a fake that might be too simple to follow. This was Nick's first chance at wingback and he didn't want to screw it up. Spring practice was almost over and his first break hadn't come until the last scrimmage. His reputation as a second string shooting guard on the basketball team meant nothing on the football field. Now he was under pressure. Beat Rod Thomas, all conference safety, and catch the pass or live in ignominy on the bench all season this fall. He and quarterback Bart Maddsen had practiced this timing play several times this spring. If his timing was good the time to cut was... NOW. He faked twice with his head trying to catch Rod off guard. Rod didn't budge until Nicks body moved left. He was on him like peanut butter on the roof of your mouth. Nick could see the ball out of the corner of his eye. It was coming right at him, but so was Rod. He tried to keep his mind on the ball, but Rod was almost 185 pounds of rock hard football player and Nick was a slim 140. Speed, thought Nick. Use your speed. He accelerated to the ball, feeling it on the tips of his fingers. He stretched his arms to get his hands under the ball. This was it. He was in. He was going to look great. Then he felt himself hit something akin to a brick wall. There was instant pain, all the air went out of his lungs and the world turned into a spinning slow motion dance. His attention alternated between the ball that had just ricocheted off his hands into the air and the pain in his right side. ***FUGITIVE*** The little truck bounced along the rough country road throwing a cloud of dust behind it. It wasn't pleasant to travel on such poorly maintained backroads without shocks, but Madame Naomi knew they were looking for her on the interstates. She had been setting up her fortune telling booth at little craft shows and spring festivals for over 700 miles now. She had pulled the Boojoo one to many times she supposed. Foolish 'Gaje' women brought her their money in a bag (Boojoo) to remove a curse that was causing them ill. They took home a bag of magazine pages cut into dollar bill sized pieces with instructions to not open it for a day, and in that day Naomi was gone. But the money was used up and the local police had recognized her at the last stop. She longed sometimes for the security of the kumpania, her tribe back in Europe, a lifetime ago. She turned it over in the seat beside her. A simple cube of obsidian. If she could open the box her fortune was made, and the box looked so blamed simple. It has some arcane characters etched into the surface, following a decorative banding that created a complex pattern across all 6 surfaces of the cube. When she sat in a very dark room with it for long enough, long enough so she was completely adjusted to the dark, she could make out the glow. A faint green glow inside. Naomi was depending on the University to translate the characters on the box and solve the riddle of its opening. There was a professor at the school that had written articles about just such objects as the one her mother had left her. He had expressed a healthy skepticism at the possibilities of the power that might be in one of these "objects" and that made him a perfect candidate to do the translation. The truck groaned as it turned into Middle Lake. Naomi put her hand on the cube to prevent it from tumbling off the seat beside her. She could see the dark obsidian between her fingers. It was the almost imperceptible glow inside of the cube she sought. Her grandmother, Mara, had whispered of its existence when she was a little girl. She had pursued it for a lifetime. Inside the office of Walter Lang Naomi waited impatiently for the small overweight man to get off the phone with a student. They talked on and on about politics, school policies and a poor grade the student had apparently received. She tried to catch the mans dull grey eyes, but he glanced at the ceiling, the floor, the small jade Buddha on the desk, everywhere but at her! Finally, exasperated Naomi took out the cube. She set it on the desk and pushed it slowly within his line of sight. Walter Lang looked up. His pudgy face looked shocked, a bead of sweat trickled down by his ear and disappeared into the folds of flesh at his neck. "Got to go, I'll get back to you on the grade, Andy." Lang tried to put the phone back into the cradle still staring at the cube, missed, then with deliberate attention set the phone into its resting place. "Where did you get this, Ms., eh, uhh... I didn't get your name? "Naomi Sinti, Dr. Lang. Nice to meet you. The object was passed down in my family. I would like you to translate the inscription." "May I take a closer look?" "Of course." A thick hand attempted to still itself as it grasped the block. Walter took a magnifying visor out of his drawer and put it on, drawing the lenses over his eyes. He turned the cube over and over very slowly, occasionally grabbing a pencil and scrawling a note. "Hmmmm," he said methodically. "What you've got here isn't dynasty oriental, really. It's actually much more recent. It's an object from Roman times, associated with a Mithraisic Cult. Oriental mystics. It mentions Fu-hsing, an oriental God of Happiness. If I can keep it over night I might be able to tell you more," "Yes," Naomi said under her breath, "you will tell me more." ***FRIENDS*** "Com'on Nick. It's not the end of the fucking world. You had it in your hands and Rod knocked it out. Ya did alright for your first attempt." Bart gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder pads as they walked into the locker room. Yeh, thought Nick, Alright if I ever get another chance to catch one. They walked through the back door of the Gym, down a flight of metal stairs clanging rubber cleats against the metal steps, and into the boys lockers. Nick opened his locker and sat down on the scruffy blue wooden bench in front of it and began to undress. School was over, the Watertown Festival started tomorrow night and Nick didn't know what he wanted to do with his life. He stared down at the green grass stains on this white practice pants with disgust. If he had just sped past Rod and caught the pass. His one and only chance to prove that at 140 pounds he wasn't the wimp he appeared to be. "Hey Nick," said a hulking figure with a towel around his thick waist, "ya can't let a little love tap like that get ya all rattled. Be tough kid!" Art Sandusky was known as Sandman to the team. One hit put you to sleep. He'd gotten the nickname after two running backs had been carried off in the playoff game with Benton Harbor last fall. However there wasn't much light in Sandman's head. What he lacked in smarts he made up in size, speed and toughness. "Nice try Nickie." Rod Thomas scuffed by with a towel over his ass. "Try those moves on Dinslage next fall and you'll catch a pass or two, but you'd better work on your speed during the summer, flyboy." Rod was Mr. Do-Everything. He played football, rodeoed in his spare time, got good grades and had any girl in the school he wanted. His handsome, dark features were a sharp contrast to Nick's light complexion. He wished Rod would stop calling him flyboy. He didn't know if he was referring to Nicks diminutive size, or to his speed. He tossed a bundle of gear in the locker with a vengeance. The sound reverberated through the locker. Somewhere in the distance he heard Coach Smith bellow, "Quiet in there you candy asses." ***FLIGHT*** The window of the Oriental Studies building was open. The cool spring evening made it a pleasant task to walk back onto the Middle Lake University campus and find the window of Dr. Lang's office. The desk was bathed in light from a green desk lamp and the chubby professor could be seen working, surrounded by books. On his desk was a green lump about an inch long and three quarters on an inch thick, glowing slightly. Six shiny black plates of obsidian lay on the table. The open sides of the box! Somehow Walter had solved the puzzle of the box and extracted the legendary stone handed down to her from generations of Gypsy guardians. Naomi silently crawled into the window. She was about 20 feet from Lang at the other end of the office. She plastered herself against the wall to the left of Lang and made her way in the shadows towards the desk. She leapt at the green stone and formulated her first wish. "I wish... " she mumbled in a low tone as the Professor looked on in confusion. The Lang started for her, but stumbled and fell on the left side of the desk. His form wavered and changed, and he was gone. Something small moved inside the heap of clothes. Naomi gathered up Professor Lang's notes, put the stone in her pocket, and said, "Come along, Walter, we're about to find our fortune." ***FAMILY*** "Breakfast, kids," Nick and Julie Burford's mother called. "Don't be lazyheads. It's a beautiful morning." Nick considered his mother to be a well meaning airhead who lived to serve her family. She reminded him of the women populating the "Nick at Night's" TV schedule, Donna Reed and June Cleaver with a little Samantha Stevens thrown in for good measure. He always knew when she was cleaning... the house blared with John Philip Sousa marches and his mother strutted around the house, feather duster in hand reliving her cheerleader-baton queen days. "Coming, Mom," Nick heard his sister call. His sister Julie was a year younger than Nick, but a good kid. He looked around his room and thought about the weekend. It was Festival weekend. Lots to do, a parade, parties, a carnival and some brews to drink if he could work it out. Nick climbed out of his Green Bay Packers bedcover and kicked a skateboard across the floor to clear the path to his closet. He paused and looked at Heather Locklear before he opened the closet door that the pinup poster covered. What would it feel like to look like that, he mused? Women were so different from men, so...sexy. Nick put on his robe and headed to for the bathroom. Not fast enough. Julie had beat him to it. What did she do for so long in there? Girls were unnaturally clean he decided and lumbered downstairs for breakfast. He was met at the table in the kitchen by a small blond woman with a cheerful smile. "Great day coming, Nick. Do you want scrambled eggs or fried?" "Skip the eggs, Mom, and give me some juice and toast." "You've got to have your protein if you want to play football, Nick. Just look at you. You're not much bigger than your sister." "Will Dad be back for the Festival tonight?" Nick changed the subject. "He'll be out of town for two more weeks, Nickie. If he gets the job wrapped up early be might be back next weekend, but I don't think we should count on that." Just then a trim blonde girl of 16 skipped into the breakfast nook and sat down delicately. "Give me the works, Mom, I'm famished." Nick looked at his sister. Several of his friends had asked about dating her recently. She had blossomed into a cute teen with a slim but feminine body. As brother and sister and only a year apart, they had always been close. Nick always admired the ease with which Julie made decisions. She seemed to make living life look so easy. "Eat up big brother," she said, "we've got costumes to pick out for the parade tonight." ***FOUND*** Back at the pickup Naomi turned on the radio to pass some time. She looked at her dark careworn face, surrounded by jet black hair in the rearview mirror. Somehow she always looked better in the rearview mirror than she did in the washroom mirror in her camper. She brushed back a wisp of black strands and thought about the year with Emily traveling with the circus. It was always money that ruined things. Money and the years that had gone by too fast. It was amazing what you could find out on the radio. Most of the fairs, shows and festivals she'd played were announced on these little local stations 20 times a day. "...and that was Perry Como's big one in 1957. And now for local events. The Watertown Spring Fling is opening Saturday. After the Masquerade Parade Paul Peters and his Pipers will be playing at the Cow Palace. Don't miss the fun, the games, the food or the frolic of the Watertown Spring Fling, Saturday." Local festivals were always good for a few bucks, Naomi pulled into town. Naomi drove past the crude "Hideout GoGo" sign on the south side of the small town of Watertown. Lots of small towns like these had the sleazy joints more respectable cities like Middle Lake wouldn't allow. This one was a dive with a garish red and orange exterior paint job and a sign "topless dancers wanted" posted permanently under the marquee. Watertown looked like a little gem to Naomi, nestled in the foothills of the Blue river it was almost invisible so heavy was the forestation around and through the town. The green city limits sign said 4789 people. Naomi drove past the small city square around which most of the businesses were located. Not much progress here, the mall on the outskirts had probably stopped downtown development like many of these little villages. The map showed the river surrounded the town on the north, west and east while the highway came up from the south. Yep, Naomi thought, Watertown was like any other Midwestern town and ripe for the picking at that... ***FESTIVAL*** The Watertown Festival. Nick Burford and his sister Julie were in the attic throwing costumes out of the old trunk looking for just the right thing. "It's not hard to find something rad in all this stuff," exclaimed Julie. "Look at all the cool duds in this thing." She held an old prom dress up to her slim body and spun around happily. Nick grabbed a tux out of the old brown suitcase and slipped his arm into the sleeve. "Too small," he complained. Julie made a face. "Well this dress is too large, we should just trade. In fact it could be funny for me to be the beau and you the prom queen." "It would never fit me," Nick said crossing his arms. "Would too," his sister answered stubbornly. "Would not," Nick answered. "I'll bet tomorrow's morning chores it does," Julie challenged. Nick slipped on the pink taffeta gown over his jeans and polo shirt with a scowl on his face. It was a bit tight over the bulky clothes. The tuxedo fit Julie perfectly. "Wow," Julie smiled. "This is going to work. You make a great girl Nick, we just have to curl your hair a little, put makeup on you and earrings...." "Whoa, sister. You really think I should do all that stuff? The guys will think I'm queer and stay away from me like poison." "It's a parade, silly. You can get away with anything." Nick felt pretty stupid going out the front door of the house with pink ruffles rustling around his stockinged legs. But he looked so good in the mirror when his sister had made him up he almost got a hard-on thinking about fucking himself. Long earrings brushed his shoulders as he turned his head. Nick stumbled down the front porch stairs in his pink high heeled pumps and wondered why he let his sister talk him into this costume. "Julie, I don't think I can do this. What if my friends recognized me, I'd never live it down." "You better hope they do. If they don't, Nick, you'll be in for the surprise of your life. You don't know how hot you look tonight... I wish I looked that good when I dressed up." "Don't wish for things you can't have Julie." "Nick I'll kill you...." Into the darkness ran two figures, a small slim boy in his tux chasing a tall pretty girl in a pink prom dress. ***FORTUNES*** Naomi Sinti looked at the slightly glowing stone on the table as she pondered what to do next. She had wasted her only wish on that stupid Walter Lang. A cackle came from something perched on the curtain rod behind her as if to answer her thought. One wish per person. If she's just known that before she wished for something as stupid and useless as Walter's bizarre fate. She pondered how she could get the stone into the right hands and get them to wish for something for her. She rearranged her crystal ball so the stone was under it and gave it an eerie green glow, then she smiled as an idea came to her. She went to the front of the tent and sat contented in her chair waiting for her patsy to come along. Nick was exhausted. He ran along the midway, ignoring the stares and catcalls of the vendors and game hawkers. He had avoided the man now following him and looked desperately around for a hiding place. He almost sympathized with pretty women and the trials they were dealt by passionate men. Nick was sure that the man wanted to rape him, or at least forcibly make Nick accompany him somewhere. Nick didn't want to know where that was. He held his pink high heels in his hands and was panting hard when he saw the tent attached to a camper on the edge of the carnival. The sign read "Madame Naomi -- Fortunes Told." Nick ducked into the tent. A folding chair stood in front of a curtain. A voice behind the curtain said, "Come in young lady. Our first fortune of the night is always free." Nick opened the curtain and ducked through. A candle burned in the back of the room giving a waxy smell to the tent. A curtain hid an area behind. In the middle of the room was a little bar table with a spherical object in the center. The sphere was glowing a dim green. The green light lit the face of an dark lady with light brown skin and high cheekbones, so Nick looked directly at her and missed to coal red eyes staring at him from high in the back of the tent. "Welcome my dear. Sit down and let me divine your future, love life and fortune." Nick sat, glad to get off his bare feet. He set the heels on the sawdust floor of the tent and plopped down onto the chair behind him. He found himself in the sawdust with his feet in the air and taffeta in his face. A little high pitched clucking laugh came from somewhere in the tent. Somehow the stiff material of his dress must have knocked over the chair ahead of his bottom reaching it. He gingerly picked himself up off the floor and set the chair back in place. He steadied himself, hand on the back of the back of the chair, then quickly sat down. He looked around for the eyes and the origin of the clucking but found himself looking into the eyes of an woman with a shawl over her jet black hair. "Well, well, well. A little tipsy tonight, dear? Better be careful, the future has much in store for you. I see a man in your future. One that you have strong passion for. After that children and a long trip over the ocean." "What about tonight? What do you see for me tonight?" Nick said softly, chuckling to himself, the old fraud didn't even know he was a boy. "Tonight you will elude the one chasing you, and a big change will come in your life." 'Yeah,' thought Nick, 'I'll change back into my regular clothes, not bad!' "Now," said Naomi, "take this stone in your hand and wish me fortune. It is traditional that the heart of the crystal ball be evoked for fortune to its master after the day of readings is done." As the stone touched his hand he felt its warmth. It glowed green, like a giant firefly. Just then the curtains behind them burst open and a swarthy face appeared. "There you are you little tease," the face said in a growl. "I wish you'd quit chasing me you bastard," Nick screamed, "chase her instead." Naomi gasped as the man turned to her with rapture in his eyes. As Nick ran out of the tent he heard her cry, "You little bitch, you ruined it." ****** By that time Nick was long gone. He was well on the way out of the park when he felt a pinch on his butt. "Quit that you bastard, I'm no girl," he said in his most masculine voice, turning to meet the eyes of the pincher. He was looking squarely at the laughing face of his sister Julie. "Thought you could handle being a girl for a night. Well, look at you. You've lost your shoes, your makeup is a mess, you'd never make it a week without cracking up." Nick's temper began to flare. "Listen Jul, I had a hard night, OK? First I get caught by Tom and Rich in this costume and they really give me the business, then some strange guy starts to follow me around panting for me, then this weird fortune teller tells me I'm going to fall in love and have babies. How would you feel?" "Don't believe you. Sounds like a bunch of bunk!" "If you don't believe me just look at this stone. It's the fortune teller's. It's from under her crystal ball." Julie took the stone in her hand and looked at the glowing rock. She tossed it up in the air and caught it as if to measure it's weight. "Well, all that my be true, but I wish you really were a cute young girl. We girls put up with a lot more than men following us around. You'll never know!" ***FEMALE*** Nick felt faint for a moment. His vision blurred and his legs went weak. He tried to catch himself, but the next thing he felt was his body hitting the ground. He looked up and blackness overcame him. He awoke to his sister and mother looking over him. "My," he heard his mother say, "he really looks good dressed as a girl." "How do you feel Nick?" Julie fretted. "Are you alright? Mom and I brought you home in the car, I think you fainted. I'm sorry I said those terrible things to you. You do make a really good girl, you hardly even look like my brother. No wonder that man was chasing you." "Get me out of this dress," Nick squeaked in a high little soprano, "I can't even talk normal any more." Nick heard his mother chuckling as she rolled the stockings down his legs. "Good legs kidoo," she kidded. "Your sister did quite a job on you." "Now the dress," she said matter a factly. Nick raised his arms and raised his butt off the floor so they could pull the pink dress over his head. He still felt tired and weak, but was not too tired to notice that as he lifted his arms an large amount of unaccustomed flesh seemed to be pulled out of the bodice of the dress and toward his chin. It had the spooky effect in this light of making him look like he had real breasts. Then the dress came up over his head and he closed his eyes as it passed. Before he opened his eyes again he heard two gasps, in unison. Something was wrong. He opened his eyes and looked. No blood, but something strange had happened. On his once flat masculine chest were two soft mounds of creamy white skin peaked with conical dark nipples. Nick looked fascinated as the tips on the nipples hardened like a pair of brown beads. The hardening was accompanied with a tingling that moved through his whole body and being. "What the..." He grabbed the swelling protrusions and pulled them closer to his face to look. They looked just like breasts. Small firm female boobs. The hands wrapped around the boobs didn't look like his either. They were very slim fingered with pretty rounded nails extending from the end of each finger. These hands held these boobs and he felt it all as if it were his hands and his chest. Then he looked up. His mother and sister were staring at him with their jaws open full measure. They looked a bit like idiots at this moment he thought, just looking at him dumbly. He wasn't sure what to say. In a dream you don't have to think about what to say do you, Nick thought? He let go of the breasts in a sudden realization that this might not be all the changes that had taken place. The soft mounds slid smoothly down and to the side, leaving a free view of Nick's crotch. When his sister had dressed him Nick had insisted on wearing his own white jockey shorts. They were still reassuringly there wrapped around his hips, but the usual lump in the crotch was absent. This was beginning to freak Nick out. The white cotton seemed to have bunched up in the middle and the elastic band ridden up to above Nick's normal waist. Now Nick's waist look higher up on his body, and his hips were emphasized. All in all he looked very convincingly like a girl. "You're a girl, Nick," his sister gasped. "You've changed into a girl." She started sobbing and wringing her hands. "I'm sorry I did this to you, I wished it and it came true -- right after I wished it. It's my fault." The she paused and knelt down next to her brother. "That's really you in there, isn't it Nick?" "Yeah, it's me. Do I really look like a girl?" "A very pretty one, exact in every detail. But you still look like Nick, too." "Every detail?" gasped Nick, suddenly grabbing for his crotch. "Aughhhhhhhh, this is horrible." "Not really horrible," said Julie trying to calm him down. "Your anatomy is really similar to mine for example." "Arrrrrghhhhhhh, nooooooo. Gross! How did this happen?" "The rock," said Julie opening her hand. "It has to be this stupid rock." Nick looked at the glowing green stone in Julie's hand. When he had held it and wished the man who was following he would follow Madame Naomi instead he did. And when Julie wished he could be a cute girl and---this happened! "Julie, wish me back." "I wish my brother was himself again." The two waited -- nothing. "Give me that stone," Nick said desperately, "I'll do it." Nick took the stone in a delicate hand... "I wish I was a boy again." Nothing. ***FEMININE*** Nick came reluctantly down to the breakfast table in his pajamas. He asked his mother the same question he had for 3 days, "Will you try wishing today, Mom. It's important! I don't like being like this. I want to go out and enjoy my summer vacation." The kitchen clock was rounding eleven as he pulled up a chair looking down at the floor. "You've been moping around the house ever since your -- ehm -- accident. We've told everybody that you have gone to visit your Uncle in Cleveland and your cousin Nicole was visiting in return. You don't have to hide out any more Nick, honey," Nicks mother assured him as she patted him patronizingly on the head. Nick silently looked at the floor some more, avoiding his mothers hopeful expression. His tragedy was too complete, too gross for any correction. He had been turned into a freak. He could hardly touch his body in the shower or when he took a pee. And to make matters worse he had to pee sitting down. His fine cock had been replaced by a girls slash, it was there every morning to remind him of his bondage. His swelling breasts got in the way of every movement of his arms, it wasn't fair. He had decided to stay in the house until this matter was resolved. Forever if necessary! He and his sister had desperately tried wording wishes to get him changed back into a boy, but the stone didn't seem to be working. Now her mother seemed to be studying the glowing object in Nick's hand with a careful eye. "Mom, you haven't wished yet," Nick repeated. "Try wishing me back to my old self. I think that each person has only one wish and you haven't wished yet." He held out the stone for his mother, hoping she would take it. She took the stone carefully, hesitantly. She seemed to fear it and yet now have a new important purpose for it. When the irregular green object didn't burn her she relaxed. His mother fondled the stone in her hand absentmindedly and put her other hand on Nick's back. "Nick, I guess I'd better use this stone to turn you back right away to my son again, but you'd be so handy around the house as a girl. You know, helping me get ready for the picnic on the 4th..." "Mom, no! If the stone works you'll waste your wish." Mrs. Burford turned the stone in her fingers and said softly, "Well, I wish that if you are going to be a girl anyway you could at least be a good girl and do what your mother tells you. But, I should try to turn you back into the old Nick, so here it goes." "Don't bother, Mom." "Why not, Nickie? You don't want to be a boy again?" she asked. Nick detected an almost hopeful quality in her question. "Yea, Mom, it's just that you've already made your wish. You wasted it. You wished something about me being a good girl and doing what you tell me." "I did?" Nick's mother's eyes we open in innocent wonder. Sometimes she could be such a space cadet! "Well, let's try anyway. I wish Nickie was his old self again." Nothing happened. Nick groaned. Why hadn't he gotten a smart mother like Bart Maddsen. His mother was a real estate agent. "Well," Mrs. Burford paused, "you could be right. I just can't remember clearly exactly what I said. The wish didn't work, did it? I guess we'll just have to wait for your father and have him turn you back. It's bound to be a broadening experience for you. And anyway I already told the girls in the club that Nicole would be staying for a while." No way, though Nick. That would be the ultimate acceptance of what he had become. He was not a daughter. He would not help around the house. He would wait until the stone turned him back into a normal boy again. "Nicole, go upstairs and get yourself something to wear. We've got wash to do," her mother said. Nick felt very guilty all of a sudden. His poor mother was going to have to do that wash all alone unless he helped. He rushed upstairs, around the banister and into his room. He would dress for the first time in 4 days, but he would wear his own clothes. At least he wouldn't have to be humiliated while he waited for his dad to get back and wish him back to normality. Nick's bed was a mess. He'd been doing a lot of sleeping in this week. He mumbled to himself angrily about his mothers stupid decision, but there was now nothing he could do but wait until the 4th and do what his mother instructed him to do. He pulled off his cotton pajamas (red stripe on white) and faced himself in the mirror for the first time. He looked a lot like the old Nick with some important and mind blowing differences. His medium length hair was a bit longer than he had worn it and his face had been subtly altered. The chin was less strong and his nose was smaller. His eyes might have been a bit wider set. The effect was a very pretty girls face, even with no makeup. The neck was thin and longer than before, as were his legs. But the thighs widened up to his hips, which now flared out slightly in feminine fashion. His waist and chest were smaller than before and two firm well shaped breasts hung from his pectorals. He looked away, embarrassed to the core of his being. He slipped on a pair of white jockey undershorts, but they fit so poorly he took them back off and pulled on a pair of red cotton briefs that pouched unfilled at his crotch but fit the new hips much better. A sloppy exercise shirt covered the new development of his chest while jeans still fit OK if the belt was pulled real tight. However his shoes were much too big for the delicate feet Nick now sported, so he put on thongs figuring if he needed shoes he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Another look in his full length mirror revealed an effeminate boy or a tomboy, but there was no way he could pass for Nick. He would have to be Nicole, his cousin, the tomboy from Cleveland, Ohio. ***FRUSTRATION*** Naomi huddled by the fire in the old monastery courtyard. She was angry. Her dark features had taken on tense lines of frustration as she decided on her next move. She had lost the stone, and with it her chance at getting out of this vagabond life. She had looked all over Watertown, waiting around stores, at the Riverview Mall, Edgerton Park, and even the Hideout GoGo. The girl who had run off with her stone was nowhere to be seen. No one even seem to know a girl of that description. Even worse that guy in the overcoat that that little snot had sent after her had been following Naomi around. She had had to run into the hills to escape him. If the girl was from out of town Naomi was in trouble. But there was one pair of eyes she hadn't used yet. "Walter, I command you to come to me." A creature the size of a small owl lit on her shoulder. It was black, with oversized batlike wings and a strange distorted head. It looked at her affectionately and clucked, a low contented "Gluck". Its beady red eyes glowed like little coals in the starless night. ***FORMULA FOUR-O-NINE*** "This is your ironing board, Nicole," Nick's mother instructed. "In the basket are all the shirts and slacks we have to iron today. Just turn on the iron, wait for it to get hot and make sure to get all the creases in the right place. It's not that hard." Nick stood in the laundry room a little stunned by the newness of it all. "Girls work," he whined. "You're going to make me do girls work until dad gets home." "Honey, you are a girl. It's a wonderful opportunity to learn some new skills and see life from a new perspective," his mother commented cheerfully. Somehow she didn't see this thing in the same horrible light as he did, but he was stuck. If mom wanted ironing, he wanted to do ironing. He took the iron gingerly and searched for the switch. A little ruffled apron fluttered in front of his jeans. Embroidered on the front was "I Love Housework". Nick thought about all the daughters around town doing this very thing right now. What he was doing wasn't so unusual -- for daughters! But how could his mother do this to her son!? But Nick took out a pair of pants and slapped the hot iron to them. Quickly he took another. When he crushed the sleeve of a shirt between the hot face of the iron and the board his Mom rushed over from the morning dishes and grabbed the iron saying, "Slow down Nickie!" She started carefully ironing the shirt, showing the girl how to get each part smooth and neat. "Do it exactly like that." Nick did each garment as his mother had instructed. Deliberately, and perfectly. He hung up each item on a hanger until a long row of hangers with crisply ironed shirts and pants dangled from the rod to his left. He ate lunch with his mother and sister while they watched their favorite soap opera. He ignored the first one, but the second had a girl about his age. He watched her, how she flirted with handsome next door neighbor as her mother lay bedridden in the next room with an incurable disease. Then an ad came on. A pretty young housewife was solving a family crisis with spray starch. He had a spooky feeling suddenly that he had entered another world, kind of like the Twilight Zone. Everyone else saw this world as the same as before, but for him it was different. Now the woman in the ad was talking to him, to Nicole. He was trapped in a young girls role and that's the way the rest of this world would react to him. In the afternoon they picked 4 cardboard boxes of rhubarb, cleaned it and canned it in mason jars. Nick was kind of enjoying working with his mother and sister. At least it was better than laying in bed, depressed. The day went faster than the last three and he was glad to be doing something useful for his mother, or did the power of his mother's wish make him feel that way? They made a light dinner for themselves. Nick learned to toss a salad, and Nick's mother gave Nick a large paper bag. "Go put this on your bed, darling. I think it will look so pretty." Inside the sack was a pink quilted bedspread with ruffled edge and roses daintily screened around the bottom. Nick look up at his mother and asked, "My bed?" "Yes, dear." Nick gulped and took the bedspread to its new resting place. He dutifully pulled off the Green Bay Packers spread and put this one on, pulling and patting until everything was straight. When he turned around his mother was in the door smiling. She held a girls nightie. "For you," she said softly. "Put it on. It'll be like a slumber party!" ***FINDING NICOLE*** From the south a speck in the sky enlarged, then circled the old monastery. Its five foot wingspan was batlike, but its body was small and almost simian. A reptilian face with coal red eyes crowned this outlandish creature. Walter settled on Namoi's shoulder. They seemed to communicate on a very basic level. She seemed to understand his grunts and clucks. He stood at rapt attention as she talked. "What?" she said. "You haven't found the little bitch yet? She has to be here. She can't be indoors all the time can she?... Well, OK if that's the way she wants to play it, we can play, too. Can't we, Walter?" Naomi looked off the Monastery hill into Watertown. The lights of evening we beginning to sparkle as the sun set. "We can do a little window peeking. Yes, you'd like that wouldn't you my pet." She stroked the bizarre creatures head as it closed its eyes in pleasure. "You'll check out every window in town until you find that girl. And don't come back until you've found her!" ***FAKIN' IT*** The radio clicked on. "...the drought continues in Lake county. Today the highs will be in the high 80's. Skies will be clear with no chance of precipitation. Long range forecast calls for more of the same, right up to the big fireworks show celebrating..." Nick woke up surrounded by pink sheets and covered by a thin clingy light blue camisole. He looked with dismay, as he had for the last 10 days, at the erect nipples poking through the shiny material. His hand automatically reached out and hit the off button on the clock radio. He had been doing housework with his mother and sister for a week. At least the time had gone fast. He got up slowly and put on a pair of blue cotton panties, a matching blue bra, a pair of girl cut jeans and the light blue tanktop with ruffles at the shoulders. Glancing quickly in the mirror he ran a brush through his shoulder long hair until it was smooth. This was as much of a girl as his mother would ever make out of him! Anyway, his dad would be back right after the 4th of July weekend. The whole deal made him mad. Nick didn't usually wake up grumpy, but today he couldn't find anything to look forward too or something. He felt... off. He trudged into the hall and saw the bathroom door was closed. "Julie!" he screamed. "Get out of there, now!" A pretty face looked out of the door, said, "You can wait 'Nicole'," and the door slammed shut. "I told you not to call me that in private, no matter what Mom says. You shouldn't make fun of me. You don't understand. You've always been a girl." Nick began to feel his eyes tearing up. That was girls stuff. Still he sunk to his knees and began to cry. Though he knew he shouldn't do it, crying felt good. So he kept doing it until it he felt better, his eyes itching from the tears. Then he wandered into his room and waited for Julie to get out of the bathroom. A few minutes later Julie's slim form appeared at Nick's door. She stopped and looked at him with an evil grin on her face. "Big Girls Don't Cry," she sung. And dashed down the hall to the safety of her room. It was Nicks responsibility to scrub the kitchen floor this morning. Sousa music blared out from the stereo in the living room. The floor needed it, thought Nick. It would feel good to see it clean. He hauled out a brush, the bucket and the bottle of cleaner. As he was on his knees scrubbing to the beat of the "Stars and Stripes Forever" he suddenly noticed the phone conversation his mother was having. "... well I really don't know. I think your Art would just love her, but I don't know if she's ready for....No, she's not really busy that night, but... Uhuh...no, she hasn't been on many dates and I'm not sure... I know it's a special event..." "Mom, who is that?" "Emily Sandusky dear...Sorry Emily, it's Nicole....Yes, she's scrubbing the kitchen floor right now... Ha ha ha... of course not. She loves to help out..." Art Sandusky, thought Nick. Could she be inviting Art Sandusky over to their house to meet Nicole? He wouldn't stand for it if that was it. He wasn't going to play girl around any boys. Art might recognize him. Worse yet Art might find him attractive. Nick couldn't imagine Art with a girl anyway. The whole idea was absurd. Art was the proverbial bull in a china shop. He wasn't very clever and he was strong as an ox. Nicks mother had finished her call. She noticed that Nick was just kneeling in front of the cleaning bucket, his eyes staring into space. The brush made tiny circles in the same place over and over. "Nicole, Nicole are you with us?" "Mom, did you just invite Art Sandusky over?" "No darling, hardly." "Whew, am I relieved. I don't think I could handle that!" "No, he's going to meet you this Friday night for the town fireworks display." "A date?" Nick wailed. "A date?" "It's not exactly a date, Nicole. Mrs. Sandusky was so insistent. You know Mrs. Sandusky." Nick did know Mrs. Sandusky. She was a big, hairy faced lady with a perennial smile and the ability to butt into everyone else's business. Suddenly Nick found himself crying uncontrollably on the kitchen floor with his Mothers comforting arm around him. Just as the crying subsided and the sniffles started Nick's mother jumped up. "Is that the doorbell?" Nick watched his mother leave the kitchen for the entryway. There was muffled sound of voices in the other room and the door shutting. Someone had entered the house. "Honey, would you turn off the stereo and pour a couple cups of coffee and bring them into the livingroom?" he heard his mother's voice say. Nick ran into the livingroom, hit the power button of the stereo receiver, and dashed back to the kitchen. He poured two cups of coffee, put them on saucers and considered his predicament. He had been a cleaning lady for over a week now he was being relegated to waitress. With the cups of coffee in hand Nick pattered carefully into the living room being careful not to spill a drop of the coffee. To his amazement his mother was talking to his football coach, Dan Smith. "Ah," his mother brightened, "here's the coffee." "You have a lovely daughter," Coach Smith said patronizingly. Nick's mother didn't notice the way Coach Smith looked Nick up and down, ever so slowly, but Nick did. He felt naked and unconsciously put his arms over his breasts after he set the coffee done on the table in front of them. "She's Nick's cousin from Ohio." "It's very nice to meet you, Nick's cousin from Ohio," Coach Smith said with syrup on his southern accented voice. He held Nick's hand a little longer than Nick was used to having his hand held and patted him on his soft butt. "Thanks for bringing the coffee, honey. Could you be a good girl and go get me some cream and sugar?" He went back into the kitchen thinking about the encounter. The coach obviously hadn't recognized him. The coach was reacting to him as if he were a very pretty girl. Nick had mixed feelings about that. As he brought the cream and sugar into the living room Nick noticed that the coach and his mother were talking about him. The coach took no notice as Nick walked into the room and just keep talking "...so I hope Nick will be able to go to football camp this year. He's got some talent if he'll work to develop it..." Nick nodded furiously and his mother caught the nod out of the corner of her eye. "We're sure Nick wants to go. He should be back ... Monday next, when his father returns from a business trip." "The would you sign this parental release and fill out these forms?" Coach asked, we'll be leaving a week from Friday. Again Nick nodded so his mother would see him. Nick watched his mother take the papers into the kitchen to fill them out. When she was gone Coach Smith grabbed Nicks thigh and pulled him over until he plopped down on the coaches lap. "Now, if you ever want to be a cheerleader for the Watertown Muskies, you just come to Coach Dan. Okie Dokie?" Nick could smell the coaches Aqua Velva from where he sat, but when part of the lap he sat on started to harden he jumped up and made himself busy neatening the room. Nick hurried out of the room after picking up the morning paper and straightening the decorations on the coffee table. He sure wanted to go to that football camp. It was almost two weeks away and his father would be back in a week. If that happened his father would wish him back and all would be well. But what, he thought, if his father got delayed. That had happened, too. Nick would be stuck in this feminine prison doing housework with his mother for another week, and he would miss football camp. Just thinking about it made him feel like crying. When the Coach had gone Nick thanked his mother. "Are you sure that Dad is going to be back next Monday? I need to be sure." "You never know about your father but he sounded reasonably certain the last time I talked to him," his mother said sweetly. She smiled to herself for a moment. "You're not enjoying this are you, Nicole?" Nick shook his head silently, looking at his bare ankles between the tight jeans and his sister's loafers. Nick's mother grew serious. "You know I was never comfortable raising a boy. What do I know about boys and what they need? I...I guess this was always a little fantasy of mine. Two girls, no boys." Then the clouds over her face lifted. "Then it happened. Can you blame me for enjoying it--if only for a few days?" ****** Nick felt confused and upset for the rest of the day. His mother wanted him to go out on a date with a boy, he wasn't sure how soon he would be turned back into Nick, he might miss the football camp and the best passes he'd caught lately were thrown by Coach Smith. Worse yet, he started thinking about the stone. While that damned rock seemed to give everyone who held it one wish, everyone so far had wasted it. Not a millionaire or a movie star in the lot. What if his father wasted his wish and didn't made Nick a boy again? The thought of being a girl forever was unbearable. Nick broke down crying a couple more time during the day. It seemed like events were forcing him to be more and more of a girl. He hoped he could make it until Monday. When he went to bed that night his mother made him put on a pretty lavender babydoll nighty she had bought that day. He had to turn around and model them for her. The he went to bed feeling humiliated and ashamed, close to tears. It had not been a good day. Nick didn't know what time it was when he awoke. There was a rattling at his window so he glanced anxiously around. Coal red eyes stared at him through the panes and a black, indescribable shape could be seen moving at the window ledge. It wasn't human. Nick felt a wetness on his mattress. He threw back the sheet and saw blood. "My god," he screamed, "they got me." As he screamed the dark shape at the window grew in size as batlike wings unfolded. For a moment all light from the street was blocked out be the creature. Then it turned and flew off into the darkness. "It's got me. They got me. I'm bleeding. Help me." When his mother and sister arrived Nick was sobbing in the middle of the bed, blood soaking a spot in the sheet below him. He was curled up in a little ball, his lavender babydolls all askew. "Who got you? What's wrong, dear?" Nick's mother said in a comforting voice. "It was at the window. It did something to me. I'm bleeding. I don't want to die." Nicks mother looked at the blood and the sobbing girl on the bed and sat down beside him, putting her hand on his forehead. She waved Julie out of the room saying, "It's alright, Julie. Nicole will be alright.... Honey, I don't think you're dying and I don't think anyone has done you harm. You just have something every girl gets once a month. Your period." Nick looked down at the bed, then up at his mother. Now he did want to die! ***FELONY*** Naomi face seldom showed pleasure, but when Walter gurgled and whispered the news Naomi's face cracked a bizarre smile. "We've got the bitch now," she cackled. "Walter, tomorrow morning I'm going to get that stone!" Naomi parked a block from Nick's house. She walked through the neighbor's yard as the first light of dawn peaked over the fences and trees of central Watertown. The Burford household was just coming awake. Naomi peered in the window as Nick, Julie and their mother sat down to breakfast. She wanted to get that little bitch for what she had done. She waited and listened. "...so then your father said the project is behind schedule. I'm afraid it's going to be at least another week until he can get home." "You don't even encourage him, mom," Nick interjected, "you haven't even told him what's happened yet. If he knew he'd be home in a minute. I'm a boy, Mom. Julie makes a stupid wish and I'm wearing Kotex mini-pads." "It's not my fault, Nick. I didn't know..." "Settle down and eat your breakfast girls. Be patient, Nicole. Just think, most boys don't get the privilege to be both a boy and a girl. You'll learn things that will help you the rest of your life. Besides, it's nice with just us girls around, isn't it. Friday night's the big town fireworks display. That's something to look forward to. You'll get to see the display with Art. And Julie and I will be helping with..." So an errant wish had changed this boy into a girl. How exciting, Naomi thought. Friday night she would take the stone, well before this boys father returned to make his wish. He would never be returned to his former self. It pleased Naomi to think of this. To think of a boy trapped as a girl for the rest of his life. And it gave her an idea. An idea of how to use the stone and build an empire. Maybe she would even unravel the puzzle of the Greatwish and have the power to change the world! The whole family would be gone on Friday night. She would steal in while they were at the celebration and get the stone back for good. Then she would concentrate on harnessing its power. ***FIRST DATE*** Nick felt better after that terrifying night of the coal red eyes. His period relieved the depression he was feeling and the crying jags stopped. He got back into the routine of helping his mother and sister around the house. He didn't think much about what lay ahead. That might be too much. He would just have to wait until his father got home. His period ended Thursday much to his relief. "Today, Nicole you'll be meeting Art Sandusky for the celebration," his mother announced at Friday breakfast. "I promised Art's mother you were the prettiest girl in town and would be a good companion for him for the fireworks tonight." Nick thought to himself that the only companion he could imagine Art with was a six pack. ****** The beauty shop in the mall smelled of some strange chemical that Nick remembered noticing from past walk-bys. He didn't know what that chemical did, but he didn't want it applied to him. It wasn't a big place. An unoccupied desk sat in front of a display of beauty products. behind the display were two rows of chairs. One row facing each wall. The walls were lined with mirrors. Nicks mother pulled him inside and said, "Sit." He probably wouldn't have sat without the command. It was one thing being a girl, it was another thing getting gussied up like one. "Marge come over here and give my niece Nicole the works. She wants to look good for the celebration tonight." Marge fussed over Nick, washing his shoulder length hair, then putting some foul smelling goop all over his scalp. A strange plastic cap was next, with hair being pulled through little holes in the plastic and treated. Finally came a wash, tiny curlers and setting lotion of some kind. Nick hated his mother for making him go through this, but the wish had completely obliterated his ability to say no to her. She seemed to be having a great time sharing the beauty shop ritual with her new 'niece'. After an hour Nick found himself sitting under a hair dryer in front of a pile of magazines. None of them were very interesting. Just hairdos, clothes, makeovers and movie stars. Girl stuff. Marge brushed the hair out after the hairdryer had done its job. She sprayed it with something and turned the chair around for Nick to see. Nick no longer looked like a young tomboy. He looked into the mirror in shock. He looked like the girls in his class looked when they went to the prom. His hair had been transformed from a straight brownish blonde helmet to a wispy wreath of silver blonde froth. His bright blonde hair tumbled along the sides of his face with a mass of curls. His mother lead him to another station and an operator named Missy. "Nicole," she explained, "will be wearing light makeup for the first time tonight. Show her how to apply it and set her up with colors that complement her skin." "Don't worry, Nicole will look darling for tonight. After a layer of light foundation, a coral lipstick, a touch of eyeshadow, mascara and shaping of the eyebrows..." All of a sudden he didn't look like himself any more. He didn't even look like himself turned into a girl. A young lady stared back at him in the mirror. It was like another transformation. At first from boy to tomboy. Now from tomboy to pretty girl. As Nick rode home in the car he could see at least one good side of this. His friends would never in a trillion years recognize him now. He didn't even recognize himself! Nick would be Nicole, that good looking girl from Ohio, until his father came back and changed him back. Then no one would be the wiser... as long as his stupid sister didn't rat. As he silently rode home Nick got a brilliant idea. He could take the stone along on the date tonight and get Art Sandusky to change him back. A postcard with the wish written on it would do it. He would have him read the card while holding the stone. Why hadn't he thought of this before? It was perfect. Suddenly for the rest of the afternoon Nick was cheerful, almost joyful at the idea of going out. It couldn't fail! Nick didn't even balk at the clothes his mother had laid out for him. In place of his accustomed and well worn jeans and tee-top was a dress! Beside the dress lay a new pink bra and panties. Nick took the dress in his hands. It was a black jumper with pleats starting at the hips falling to smoothness at the knee length hem. Wide black straps went over the shoulders and a black slide buckle belt circled the waist. To match it his mother had laid out a black on white abstract print blouse with dolman sleeves and light shoulder padding. Julie's eyes grew wide as she looked at the outfit that lay on Nick's bed. "You'll look adorable!" she exclaimed. Nick put on the pink panties and bra, then the silky white blouse and the black skirt and matching black pumps. Julie talked him into sterling silver clip style earrings and a small silver bracelet to accessorize the dress. As he looked in the mirror he knew it was going to be hard to talk to his mother into letting him wear jeans again after this. Nick looked at the time. He grabbed the small purse Julie had encouraged him to take and dropped the glowing green stone into it. Taking a magic marker he quickly dashed off Art's wish on a 3 by 5 card and stuffed that into the clutch bag. He ran to the top of the stair to see his mother talking to Art Sandusky. He towered over Nick's mother and Julie, looking rather civilized for a wildman in tan slacks and a plaid shirt. Suddenly he looked up at Nick. He had an expression on his face Nick had never seen before. He was awestruck. As they left Nick's mother gave him a peck on the forehead and said, "Enjoy yourself." A tiny involuntary smile curled up on the sides of Nick's coral lips. ***FALLIBLE*** Naomi shuffled once more in the drawers that held the most promise. She had looked carefully through the house from top to bottom. The stone was not to be found. Walter, perched on a china cabinet in the dining-room, cackled and gurgled. As if to tell Naomi, "Not here. Not here," Naomi didn't want to believe that, but after scavenging for over an hour she knew it was true. Either the stone was lost or one of the family had it with them. She decided her best bet was a family member. Nick. ***FORNICATE*** The inside of Art's van looked like a den of iniquity. The only two seats were the bucket seats up front. The entire rear was dedicated to a big pair of stereo speakers, a round wooden table with holes cut around the edge for glasses and an open expanse of carpet. A few car magazines and Playboys were strewn around the floor. There was a subtle stink of alcohol throughout the vehicle, Nick and Art had been tipping a few. "Have another Art. I'm amazed at how much you can drink. I think you can drink more than my father." Nick's plan was to get Art as drunk as possible, get him to hold the stone and read the wish, then escape. But Art had surprised Nick. He had expected a real wildman and slob, the Sandman football image that Art cultivated. But he had been a crude sort of gentleman so far with him, and they had had some awkward conversation. Nick fingered the stone in his purse to make sure it was there and opened a 3rd beer. Three was usually the limit. He had managed to get 5 into Art so far, and it seemed he was feeling it less than Nick. Perhaps this smaller female body wouldn't be able to hold as much brew. Nick was trying to judge the right moment to give Art the wish he had written to read. Art stopped the van high above Watertown in the north hills. The sun was setting and the sky was bright orange. The waves of heat from the dry soil distorted the scene into surrealistic patterns. "We won't see no better fireworks than that, Nicole." Nick nodded. Now that the van was stopped, it was time. Nick nervously got out the hand written card and handed it to Art. "Read this out loud, Art," Nick asked. "Is this a joke or somethun'?" Art wondered. "Ya, kinda. Here hold this green rock and just read it." Nick put the stone in Art's big palm and crossed his fingers. He began to fantasize about being Nick again. "Ya know, you're real pretty.. " Art started. No, no, read the card thought Nick. "...but I sure wish you had a body like one of those centerfolds back there." Art reached back and grabbed a magazine to illustrate his point with a stupid grin on his face. "Just kidding Nicole. Now what's this card say? Something about... I wish Nicole was...I can't read your writing... Nicole are you alright?" Nick awoke to Art's face over him... and pain. The pain burned in a circle around his chest and up over his shoulders. It was his bra. He reached down to loosen it and noticed his blouse had come open. The top button had popped off revealing cleavage of centerfold proportion. Nick reached in and undid the front clasp of the bra as Art watched. He didn't say anything. Nick could smell the beer on his breath this close. He could feel his nipples, out of the bra cups and against the silky fabric of the blouse harden. "Christ you're a sexy thing, little Nicole." Arts lips touched Nicks and Nick struggled as his body was controlled by the powerful linebacker. Art pushed Nicks legs open with his knee as easily as if he hadn't resisted at all. "No!" she gasped between kisses. She wasn't kissing back and turned her head from side to side to try to avoid the awful contact, but Art didn't seem to notice. His eyes seemed glazed, as if what little humanity Nicole had seen there earlier was gone. It was partly the alcohol and partly her mothers wish 'enjoy yourself', he later decided. But at the time pure lust hit Nick like a tidal-wave. Wordlessly they slid off the seats and into the back of the van. Nick stopped struggling and passively let the warm confusion of the beer, the sex and being female engulf him. The radio was playing a slow heavy metal ballad. Art clumsily unbuttoned the remaining buttons on the blouse and pulled it off him. He removed his shirt and pulled Nick close. He struggled weakly but his nipples, hard and sensitive, felt the hairy chest and sent signals of pure desire to every part of Nick's new body. "I don't want to enjoy myself," Nick mouthed desperately. He shuddered. Art pushed the wide straps of the dress off his shoulders and unbuckled the belt. He was naked except for tiny pink panties, soaked at the crotch. Art wriggled out of the rest of his clothes and covered Nick's lush body with kisses. "No, not this..." he protested weakly. But Art was determined and pulled the panties off with a tug. Nick was being fucked by a boy! The fireworks lit up the windshield of the van as Art held a drunk and confused Nick on the floor. The beer was now at full brain fog and Nick finally gave in to the sensations of fulfillment, satisfaction and pleasure. Hot and sweaty in Art's lust wagon, they could see some of the rockets explode in colorful bursts in the sky from where they lay. His mothers order had been obeyed. Nick had enjoyed himself. They waited until the fireworks were finished and then Art said, "Let's get something to eat." Embarrassed and passive, Nick just hung his head and watched Art start the van. ***FORTRESS*** Naomi sat inside her camper at the old monastery in the hills north of Watertown. She read Walter Lang's notes over and over. The notes he had made when he translated the figures and script on the obsidian cube that contained the green stone. It seemed clear. Ying and Yang. That was the trick, to balance Ying (the female aspect) and Yang (the male aspect). The Mithraisic Cult used hermaphroditic priests to control the tricks of Fu-hsing, the Chinese God of Happiness. First she needed the green stone, then all she needed was a hermaphrodite. ***FAST FOOD*** The Bucket was on the south side of town. Its main claim to fame was that it was open almost all night. All the kids hung out there. Art and Nick took a booth in the back where they could be somewhat private, yet see who was coming in. When they got to the booth Nick said, "I've got to go to the girls room, OK?" "Don't take too long..." Art ordered drunkenly. Nick went to the room and surveyed the damage done by Art's wish and their unexpected behavior. The mirror said he was now one stacked babe. He was braless under the blouse, but it didn't matter. His big firm boobs would have made the blouse impossible to button to the top even if the buttons were there. He had to tighten the belt a couple more notches for his slim waist and his hips were wide enough to hike his hemline up a full inch. Nick set the purse on the sink. He took out a brush and repaired his ha